


The Fifteen Instances of Captivity

by sarriathmg



Series: Dick Grayson as Renegade AU [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Art, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Chains, Dark Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson is Renegade, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Imprisonment, Jason Todd is Robin, Kidnapped Jason Todd, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentions of Slade&Rose&Terra&Jericho, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Dick Grayson, Prompt Art, Prompt Fic, Rating May Change, Restraints, Sick Character, Sickfic, Stand Alone, Stockholm Syndrome, Thanksgiving, you don't have to have read any of the other fics in the series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarriathmg/pseuds/sarriathmg
Summary: Jason Todd, Robin, or the newest addition to the Titans, is now finding himself the captive of a team of mercenaries and one mysterious Renegade.A series of images & blurbs representing fifteen instances of Robin's captivity, connecting to be a linear story.1-The Captor(s)2-Water3-Singing VoiceThe Sound of Music4-Failed Escape Attempt5-Homesickness
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Series: Dick Grayson as Renegade AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696876
Comments: 16
Kudos: 219
Collections: Fifty Shades of Dark Grayson





	1. The Captor(s)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【图文】被监禁的十五个实例（监禁生活十五题）](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389955) by [sarriathmg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarriathmg/pseuds/sarriathmg)



> I'm doing things again even though I said I was going to focus on BJTW until I can find time to finish translating the next chapter. It appears that I had lied.
> 
> The idea came to me. It's actually based on a very old Asian internet meme where writers of any specific pairings are given between 15-30 prompts related to a theme. I came across a list of 15 centered around life in captivity and inspiration suddenly struck.
> 
> You do not have to have read Renegade to understand this. This fic is based on a similar setup but will follow a different timeline, and I will try to convey any background information within the text itself so you don't have to have read any external content to get it.
> 
> Each prompt will be narrated as a separate event but they connect into a linear story.
> 
> See the end of the fic for the full list of prompts.

There are five in total.

Jason knows that much, thanks to the sounds of their voices and the shadows they cast on the wall.

There is Slade Wilson foremost. That’s the one Jason will never mistake for others, the last voice he’d heard before they knocked him unconscious. Before they stole Robin from a mission and brought him here to imprison him and chain him to the wall of a cell. It is quite distinctive even without the voice changer in his helmet.

There is another one he recognizes, and it’s only because of her infamy among the Titans. She’s the blond girl who had betrayed them once. When her shadow comes through the crack of the door Jason sometimes can smell the artificial scents of her perfume coming from the next room, both feminine and invasive. 

There’s another adolescent female, one who calls Slade “dad”. And a fourth whom Jason suspects is mute because he sometimes hears one-sided conversations when he tries hard to listen.

Then there is _him._ The mysterious apprentice of Deathstroke. The one whom no one knows the origin of, having a voice so alluring that it makes Jason’s spine tingle, yet also a kind of darkness that makes him tremble in fear from the mere mention of his name. 

And when Jason falls asleep at night by himself on the cot, his face will sometimes appear before him. The masked face of a young man that gives him a sense of déjà vu, one that contains a familiarity Jason cannot place and is constantly looming over him. The face of Renegade.


	2. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know,” the man says, “you’ll never get out of here if you die from dehydration first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes/warnings: the tags will be updated as I go. There will be a certain level of violence in this. Nothing too graphic and nothing beyond what the plot requires, but concerning the subject matter, a certain amount of canon-typical violence can't really be avoided.
> 
> So just... heads up?

Jason doesn’t know what they want with him, but the mysterious apprentice has to have something to do with it.

During the first few days, Jason isn’t cooperative at all. His captor comes into his cell twice a day to check on him and to replace his food and water, then he would leave him alone. Jason refuses to consume anything that Renegade brings him. Not the chicken sandwiches he put on paper plates and metal trays, and not the few bottled waters he keeps in his cell. There’s no telling whether they spiked any of the stuff with drugs meant to keep him compliant.

The unchanging nature of his confinement forces Jason to obsess over his captors and their purpose, and over where he is. He obsesses over Slade’s apprentice, Renegade. It’s an unhealthy fixation, one that makes him flex his hands whenever he hears a sound outside his door. And one that makes him leap up as soon as his captor opens it and walks in, then he’d jump at the newcomer like a feral cat with bared claws, attacking and leading in a fight he knows he can’t win.

Renegade either doesn’t care or has decided that he’d let him have his fun. The first time Jason tried it, Renegade knocked him down immediately. By the time he could get up from the floor, the man had left, with only a new tray of food and bottled water left for him. The second time Jason is better prepared. He has made sure that he listened and took his stance before Renegade walked in. He never had a chance. Renegade allows him a few swings just to get his hopes up, but in a moment he kicks Jason to the floor again, his attacker not even putting much effort into it.

Jason spasms and coughs a little at the rough treatment. When he looks up, Renegade isn’t even looking at him. The masked man is standing beside the untouched food and water that he’d brought in hours before, a disapproving look in his blue eyes.

“You know,” the man says, “you’ll never get out of here if you die from dehydration first.”

Jason feels like his insides are burning from anger and indignation, and he almost spits when he makes his objection.

“Like you’re planning to let me go, asshole!”

“Even if I don’t,” Renegade answers, “what are you planning to do about it? Are you going to protest by letting yourself die? Is death by dehydration a better alternative?”

“It’s a better alternative than letting you drug me,” Jason says humorlessly.

Renegade hums. He puts the new tray down onto the ground and picks up an unopened bottle sitting next to the untouched food.

Jason tries to struggle and get away when Renegade walks up to him, but the efficient kick of a knee to his stomach makes him halt, gasping for breath. The older man takes a fistful of his hair in his hand and forces him to lift his chin. The sealed bottle opens with a pop, and Jason couldn’t do anything but to take it when his captor forcibly presses the mouth against his lips.

The bottle tilts a little and the cool liquid flows. Jason puckers his lips up to resist, only to have the spiraled mouth invade the cavity of his mouth, bypassing his closing teeth and pouring directly into his throat.

It’s humiliating and frustrating, but it moisturizes his dry esophagus. Trying to back away only hurts more. In no time, the force-feeding is over. He is let go and Jason coughs and wipes at his mouth as Renegade screws the cap back on.

“What did you- what’s in the water?” He asks, concern and fear creeping into his voice, “it’s drugged, isn’t it? You fucking assholes!”

“Maybe,” Renegade replies calmly, “perhaps we put something in it, or perhaps not. There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

The mercenary smooths down a few strands of Jason’s hair, messy and standing because of their treatment, and Jason feels a chill run down his spine.

“Eat the food, Robin,” his captor says, “I will check back later to make sure you won’t try something stupid again.”

With that, Renegade leaves the room and locks the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup, in this version of the timeline, Jason doesn't know who Renegade is at first! That part of the story is gonna be really interesting!
> 
> P.S. I'm so very busy lately with so many things... still working on getting all the BJTW stuff done but also so many other things I want to write and draw... plus I'm slowly remastering Renegade (since I've started to get used to writing in English again there are just too many mistakes and wordy sentences I can improve on...) but I do have a few other stuff I've saved. Looking forward to upload them in the future!


	3. The Sound of Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is gray and bland. Jason is going mad from the lack of stimulants. There is nothing he can latch onto for his sanity. Nothing.
> 
> Nothing, except for the scheduled melody of a piano from the room next to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3- ~~Singing Voice~~ The Sound of Music
> 
> This is going to be the first prompt that I will change up, and I think I have a good excuse for it. I would totally make Joey sing if I could, but it's kind of his most important character trait that he can't sing anymore (did you know that Joey used to be a good singer before the Jackal incident?).
> 
> So, having Joey play an instrument is going to be my compromise.

The room is empty and small. Other than a cot to sleep on and a lamp to light the night, all he has access to is a small bathroom. There’s a tiny window near the ceiling providing him with the only natural lighting in the place, and the chains on Jason’s wrists prevent him from going anywhere outside of a limited radius.

Everything is gray and bland. Jason is going mad from the lack of stimulants. There is nothing he can latch onto for his sanity. Nothing.

Except for the scheduled melody of a piano from the room next to his. Those notes, the beautiful notes played by practiced hands. Sometimes Beethoven, sometimes _Mary Poppins_ or the _Wizard of Oz_ , but always starting around the same time in the evening, at that sweet spot when the sun is turning a reddish hue only minutes before sunset. Every day, like clockwork.

Jason picks up the pattern pretty quickly. He waits for it, sitting leaning to the wall minutes before the scheduled music. Sometimes he presses his ear to the wall, other times he simply sits and listens. It’s always a treat to speculate what song is going to perform that day, and Jason looks forward to it like a kid looks forward to Christmas. The notes vibrate through the walls and they take him to a place where his mind can wander. A place where he doesn’t have to focus on his current predicament.

Renegade finds out after a few days. The music has distracted Jason so much he doesn’t even notice when the man walks in with his dinner. He jumps when he realizes, mentally berating himself for letting down his guard.

  
  


“Who’s playing?” Jason immediately asks, temporarily forgetting his situation, “is it someone on your team?”

“It’s none of your business,” the man simply replies and places the tray on the floor.

The next day, when he comes back, it surprises Jason to find his captor has brought him something. A handheld gaming console. A new model, minus any internet connection. There are various games and movies already saved on it, and when he gives Renegade a questioning look, the man only shrugs.

“You looked bored out of your mind,” he says.

Of course, the first thing Jason does is to try to hack into any of the place’s networks with his new device. The wireless internet connection, any networks surrounding them, or Slade’s private network for his mercenary jobs, anything goes. But the mission is a failure. He eventually gives up and resorts to entertain himself instead.

Jason finishes the movies first. Most of them are action-packed ones that aren’t exactly his preference, but it tramples boredom. He then tries to play the games, only to end up throwing the wretched thing aside after losing nearly ten times in the first fifteen minutes. He doesn’t touch the console after that.

Jason can’t guess how Renegade might know about these details, but the next time the man visits him in his cell, he already has more things for him. 

Jason listens to the cassette player, and the tapes aren't half bad. But he always puts them aside for the piano music. Recorded songs don’t really match up to the real thing. The day after that, Renegade brings him books. This time he finally pays attention. The names of his favorite authors printed on beautiful covers are just too much to pass on.

Jason reads for most of the day, not even planning his escape as much as he used to. He stays up late reading, often sitting on the floor by the lamplight until he’s too tired to even keep his eyes open. He even wakes up a few times to find that he has somehow fallen asleep on the floor.

It’s not until Renegade walks in one evening with a small table for the lamp when Jason realizes that he hasn’t waited at the wall as much lately, preferring to use the piano as his mood music when he was reading instead. There might even be a few instances when he had forgotten about the music, when he was too preoccupied with his books.

“It sounds great, doesn’t it?” The man says as he pushes the table close to the bed. 

Jason looks up from his book, frowning. Another familiar melody is playing, and it’s beautiful and sad. Jason had been listening to it. The interruption doesn’t exactly thrill him.

“It is,” he answers sarcastically, “if you can just shut up.”

Renegade narrows his eyes. He seems to study him, but Jason is feeling too cocky at the moment to feel threatened.

He looks down at his book again and says, “whoever is playing has tons more class than you.”

“Is that so?” Renegade says, sounding irritated.

“Yeah,” Jason replies without thinking, scratching the bruises on his neck, “I can’t imagine you possessing that level of finesse.”

“Or maybe you’ve just been living in too much comfort lately,” the assassin says coldly, “maybe it’s about time to put you in your place again.”

Jason’s hair stands with that statement. He shudders when he hears shuffling and footsteps, but when he looks up, all he sees is Renegade’s back when he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. The sudden noise makes Jason jump. 


	4. Failed Escape Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of a shuffling as the man in front of him crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet with his wrists resting on his thighs. Jason pauses, then looks up, staring right into Renegade’s unreadable light blue eyes.

Renegade fights like Slade Wilson.

His form is strong and powerful, grounded, feet firmly planted and his balance is low and steady, each blow silent and stealthy, always hitting right where it hurts the most.

Renegade fights like a mercenary, like how one would expect out of Deathstroke’s most favored protégé. But there’s an elegance to him as well, a familiarity. Every time the man flips through the air he draws a curve of perfection, something akin to the golden ratio, like a dancer practicing his most signature moves. It almost mesmerizes Jason.

The attempt is a disaster. Jason tried to fight back when Renegade caught him breaking out of his cell, even knowing he didn’t stand the slightest of chances. Renegade is feared by the Titans, and even Bruce and some Leaguers seem to be wary of him. Jason can see why after only a few seconds of their clash, all his attacks ended up hitting the air, with Renegade faster and better than him in every way. It’s almost like he knows Jason’s moves by heart. So knowledgeable, that the man doesn’t need much effort at all predicting Jason’s move in the next quarter of a second, taking him down before Jason even knows it.

Now, knocked onto the ground for the fourth time, heaving in pain as he clutches his bruised abdomen, Jason clenches his teeth and silently swears at the mysterious man who has kept him prisoner for the past two weeks.

Footsteps close in until Jason can see the young mercenary’s feet through his downcast lashes. Renegade doesn’t attack or grab him, of course. It’s not like he needs to break a sweat to recapture him, anyway. The man has only been entertaining himself throughout their little exercise. Their little game of seek-and-go-run.

“Get up,” the voice calmly rises in his ears, dark and magnificent. Everything about this man is a mystery. A Siren’s song. “It would embarrass Batman to see you like this.”

“Fuck you,” Jason can’t help but bite out. He has had enough of this guy’s bullshit. He was initially knocked unconscious and captured during the mission with the Titans before being brought here, imprisoned by these psychos and isolated for weeks. His every basic need was a luxury only his captors can give. For them to hold their power over him. Jason has had enough of it. He is done being kept in the dark, and he wants answers.

“What do you want from me, anyway?” Jason asks, “Are you so dumb to think you can ransom goddamn Batman for money? You keep me here, doing nothing, answering none of my questions!”

“You are a sharp kid, Robin,” Renegade calmly answers, “maybe you can figure that one out on your own.”

“Weirdos,” Jason says bitterly, “just let me go, will you?”

There’s a bit of a shuffling as the man in front of him crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet with his wrists resting on his thighs. Jason pauses, then looks up, staring right into Renegade’s unreadable light blue eyes.

“Slade gifted you to me, Little Wing,” the man says, voice low and private. “And I take care of what is mine.”

Jason stills in a sudden wave of intense fear as he stares ahead, swallowing.

“What did Bruce see in you, I wonder?” Renegade continues, “Bravery? Righteousness? All of those will probably get you killed one day.”

Cool cerulean eyes stare at him intensely through the openings on the domino mask. Jason looks back up at him in shock, face paling in utter terror.

There is a name that this man had just spilled out, casually, like talking about what he’s having for dinner. And it’s a name that he shouldn’t have a way of knowing—

—How’d he know Batman’s name is Bruce?

Who is this guy,  _ Renegade?! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last couple of lines come from [this comic panel](https://twitter.com/sarriathmg/status/1287321504192114690). The epitome of canon identity porn👍


	5. Homesickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason is locked up for his attempted escape, it's Thanksgiving, and he is sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm mixing up the numbers for some of these prompts to fit the linear narrative better. This prompt used to be no.11. The one after this will still be "Thermometer".
> 
> Didn't get to post this for Thanksgiving and if I have to be honest, I actually didn't get the idea until after the weekend was over.

When the door to the darkened cell opens for the nth time, Jason doesn’t even look up. He’d stopped doing that a while ago.

Jason’s entire body is aching. Renegade has locked him in this cell for his disobedience, for daring to escape out of the gilded little cage that they blessed him with. Here, there is no light, and the air is chilly, especially so since the night must have fallen.

Not that he can tell day from night, however, with how dark and windowless this hellhole is. Jason hates it.

He huddles close to his body from the cold, sniffing a little from a stuffy nose. His head feels heavy, but at least he isn’t shaking anymore. The cold had stopped making him shiver a while ago. Now Jason just wants to curl up and sleep in the dark, on the hardened floor, with his chains surrounding him.

The light from the hallway is assaulting Jason’s delicate eyeballs, and he wishes whoever it is can just leave soon. A key makes a metallic sound as it slides out of the keyhole, and the person holding his new tray of food walks close to him, footsteps echoing in the tiny chamber.

The darkness is making the room seem larger than it really is. In one second the newcomer is a mile away, but in the next he is standing right over Jason, placing the tray down beside him.

Jason keeps his head buried in his arms and ignores the man. He doesn’t wish to respond, and he hopes he would just go away and leave him alone. But the man doesn’t.

 _Why are you still here?_ Jason wants to ask. _Just put down the goddamn food and leave, take away the untouched sandwich while you’re at it._ He hadn’t touched his last two meals. 

“What’s wrong?” The newcomer asks. It’s Renegade, and from the way his clothes shuffle, Jason guesses he isn’t in uniform. It has always been him that brought his food to him during his punishment, so why would Jason expect differently?

He doesn’t answer, and it’s not long before a hand reaches over and lightly touches his forehead with its backside.

“You’re burning up,” Renegade says, voice neutral to the ear. Jason sneers, a nasal quality sneaking into the sound.

“Why didn’t you say something the last time I was here?” The mercenary continues, “you could have just said something.”

Oh, but there are no pros to acting weak in front of your abductors, is there?

Jason misses Wayne manor. He misses the way he could act a little childish when he was sick, given the chance to stay home from patrol and watch TV with Bruce, Alfred cooking him up a warm bowl of chicken soup. Home is when he could lie down in a warm bed and not worry about anything for the time being; a place where he can spend his altered state with his loved ones.

Here is no home, and he has no loved ones in this place. So he ignores Renegade, not answering any of his questions.

“Come on,” the man says, “get up. I’ll get you to a warmer room.”

Jason wants to fight him when Renegade leans forward and wraps him in his arms. Instead, he finds himself unable to resist that warmth emanating from the man’s body. He leans into it instead.

A hand finds its way onto Jason’s back and strokes him in downward motions. Renegade is cooing at him in a mockery of care.

“There, there,” he says, “it didn’t have to be this way if you didn’t run.”

Jason sniffs a “Fuck you” and tries to pull back, but Renegade’s arms hold firm.

“Stay,” he says, “I’m carrying you to a bed.”

As he says this, Renegade is unlocking Jason’s shackles with a key and picking him off of the floor. Jason struggles, but he is weak from the fever. Suddenly there is an overwhelming sense of melancholy washing over him. Jason feels powerless, and the thought of going home to Bruce and Alfred is making him sicker.

Before Jason knows it he is sobbing into Renegade’s shirt. His tears soak through the fabric and his hands find their way to Renegade’s back so he can hang onto him. It does not deter renegade in the slightest. Instead, he strokes Jason and shushes him.

“It’s okay,” his captor says, “it’s going to be alright. I won’t let you stay by yourself on Thanksgiving night.”

Suddenly, Jason is feeling light-headed when Renegade picks him off of the ground bridle-style. The room spins and he whimpers. Then, before Jason knows it, he is in the air as his captor carries him out of the room, the bright light from the hallway assaulting his eyes.

Outside, he hears noises. There are people talking, a couple of teenage voices fighting over some small things. There are the sounds of china and forks clashing with each other, the warmth from the cooling oven and stoves surrounding him. Jason smells the wonderful scent of cooked food. Baked turkey and baked pie. The smell of herbs and butter.

Renegade doesn’t go into the room where they dine. He takes Jason upstairs into a small and cozy bedroom, in a part of the house where Jason had never been. He puts him down into the soft covers and Jason immediately curls up, beating his captor in wrapping himself inside the blanket.

“I’ll get some water and medicine for you in a bit,” Renegade says from somewhere above him, “don’t run again while I’m gone, okay?”

Jason hums in response, already drifting. The ghost of the smell of Thanksgiving dinner still lingers. Jason can’t help but sob, wrapping himself tighter and feeling more alone than ever.

There’s a moment of silence before Renegade crouches down behind him and sits on the bed. A warm hand finds its way to Jason’s back, staying there firmly in a sign of support.

Jason sniffs, eyes puffy from the tears and it’s hard to breathe through his stuffy nose.

“Alfred...” he mutters quietly, so quiet that in his delirium Jason thinks for sure Renegade can’t hear him. He imagines the old Englishman’s kind face in front of his eyes, telling him it’s time for dinner, that Thanksgiving should be a time for family and reunions. That he and Bruce are Jason’s family.

“He’s not here,” Renegade replies, sounding so out-of-place when Jason is so wrapped up in his thoughts.

“I’ll bring you a new plate of food, okay?” The man then speaks up louder, “What are you in the mood for? I’ll bring you some turkey. You should at least try a little, even if you’re sick. Do you want any desserts?”

Jason blinks a few times, trying to chase away the drowsiness. He looks back, barely able to make out the man’s silhouette against a dark bedroom.

Jason whispers, “Who-are you?”

He can’t tell much through the darkness, but Jason is sure that Renegade is casually dressed, his face uncovered. However, he can only faintly make out a lopsided grin forming on his abductor’s face. Nothing else.

“I’ll be back, I promise,” Renegade says before he tucks the corner of the blanket under Jason’s exposed shoulder.

Then he stands up and leaves the room, leaving the promise to come back echoing throughout it.

**Author's Note:**

> The full list of prompts:
> 
> (Note: Some of these titles may not be taken literally)
> 
>  **1 The Captor(s)**  
>  **2 Water**  
>  **3 ~~Singing Voice~~ The Sound of Music**  
>  **4 Failed Escape Attempt**  
>  **5 Homesickness**  
>  6 Thermometer  
> 7 The Clock  
> 8 Unseen Shackles  
> 9 Lost Key  
> 10 ~~Pure Oxygen~~ Chloroform  
> 11 Stockholm Syndrome  
> 12 Fast-Acting Poison  
> 13 Near Asphyxiation  
> 14 Slow-Acting Drugs  
> 15 The Prison that Never Existed


End file.
